


The Lace Set

by holyfant



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, mention of Ron/Lavender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5612242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyfant/pseuds/holyfant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ron Weasley is an insensitive prat, Lav, and I told you from the start."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lace Set

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the New Year's Inter-Fandom Fic Fest over at the rant meme, for anon!

Parvati sat cross-legged on her fourposter, watching Lavender picking up outfit after outfit and discarding it again. The floor around her bed was already covered in blouses, skirts and dresses.

 

“What about this one?” she said, eyes glittering a bit unnaturally, as she held up a pale yellow skirt with a delicate flower print.

 

“Not exactly the season,” Parvati said, and then: “ _Lav_.”

 

Lavender dropped the skirt, and turned away, gripping one of the poles of her four-poster as if growing faint and needing support.

 

“Lav, come on,” Parvati said, slightly exasperated with the performance that she knew to be half genuine, half affected. “Come here, will you?”

 

Lavender, instead, sat down on her own bed and peered at Parvati from inside the gloom the drapes created. Parvati could see the tears in her eyes anyway.

 

“McGonagall will have your hide if she sees you in the Great Hall in anything but your uniform robes again,” Parvati said, “so it's not much use anyway. If you really want something to put on underneath that'll make you feel good, take out that lace set with the bows you got at Eros last Hogsmeade week-end.” Parvati leaned her chin on her hand. “No one will see, but _you_ will know.”

 

“That's not what I need,” Lavender said.

 

“No, what you need is a lobotomy,” Parvati said snippily.

 

“Why are you –?” Lavender's lip was trembling. “Why are you being so mean?”

 

Parvati sighed, and unfolded her legs. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm not trying to be mean, it's just… Ron is an insensitive prat, Lav, and I told you from the start.”

 

Lavender wiped at her eyes. “You did.” She sounded smothered. “I just thought, if I tried...”

 

“You thought wrong,” Parvati said, but smiled to soften it. “It happens to the best of us.” _It happens to me all the time_ , she thought privately. “You should be flattered someone who thinks _Hermione_ is fun isn't interested in you anymore. It's his loss.”

 

Lavender was clearly only half listening. “If I can't,” she said, and sniffed. “If I can't make him notice me again, will you … help me? To find someone else?”

 

It hit a nerve. “Why would you _want_ him to notice you again?” It was too harsh, and Lavender started to cry quietly. This wasn't the theatrical performance she'd staged earlier; this was real.

 

“Merlin.” Parvati slid off her bed to join Lavender on hers. “Hey. Lav. Come on.” She pulled Lavender into a hug. Lavender gripped the fabric of her blouse, long fingernails sharp on her back. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

 

“What's – wrong with me?” Lavender asked, hiccuping. “What's wrong with me that he – prefers _Hermione Granger_?”

 

“Nothing,” Parvati said, tightening her hold. “You're – you're _great_ , Lav. You're beautiful. You're –” Parvati pulled back, and looked her friend in the eye. “You're funny, and you're creative, and you're sweet, all right? You're – you always know how to cheer me up, and you're the only one who manages to get me and Padma different gifts on our birthday that both of us love, and you tell the best stories.” Lavender gave her an owlish blink, her lashes clumped together with wetness. “You're my best friend,” Parvati pushed on. “Hermione Granger can't hold a candle to you, okay?”

 

“She's so smart,” Lavender said, sounding small.

 

“Yeah, she's smart. But so are you, okay? You don't have to – be able to quote our textbooks to be smart. And you're – you're a lot nicer than her.”

 

Lavender was quiet, looking at Parvati. “Do you think anyone will ever love me?” she finally asked, in nothing more than a whisper.

 

“Of course.” Parvati had to suppress the urge to shake some sense into Lavender. “Of course, Lav, of course. Someone will see you someday, and –”

 

Lavender interrupted. “If we're still single at –” She cast around for a number, “thirty-five, will _you_ marry me, then?”

 

Something in Parvati went tense and crouching; even knowing how easily Lavender played these kinds of games, it felt dangerous, touching too close to what she'd forbidden herself to think about. “I don't think,” Parvati said, then stopped.

 

Lavender looked at her, curiously serious.

 

“I don't think my baba would approve,” Parvati finally said, feeling a bit weak.

 

“By then it'll be fine,” Lavender said lightly. “By then we'll be able to marry – I don't know – dragons. Giants. So two girls should be fine.”

 

Parvati laughed; it sounded nervous even to her own ears. She expected Lavender to join in, to move on, to forget this girlish play – but Lavender didn't laugh.

 

“Come on, Vati,” she said. “Would you? If you didn't have to think about your baba? Would you marry me?”

 

“I,” Parvati said, and suddenly it wasn't a game anymore. And they'd sworn, in fourth year, after that one fight, that they'd never lie to each other again. They'd sealed it with a blood bond, pressing the carefully made cuts on their thumbs against each other. “Yeah,” she said, her mouth going dry. “I would.”

 

Lavender smiled. “Good.” And she kissed Parvati as if it were nothing: a dry, quick kiss, that was over before Parvati had time to recover from the shock.

 

“Lavender,” she said, because she couldn't think of anything else.

 

“You know, I think I _will_ wear that lace set,” Lavender said. She looked Parvati in the eye. There was something new there. “Will you help me put it on?”

 

Parvati opened her mouth to say _you don't need help to put on a bra_ , but shut it again. “Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”


End file.
